He turned in a circle in the junk food aisle. Chips, cookies, and candy lined the shelves. Livingston told him before they exited his vehicle that they were there for supplies. He twined his fingers so he wouldn’t reach for anything. It had been two years since he’d had chocolate. His mother was always there to smack his hand or say something about his weight. He glanced over his shoulder to find the huge man watching him. Livingston’s face was expressionless.

The one-sided conversation he’d overheard between Livingston and Little still played in his mind. Spankings, subs, and he wasn’t so naive that he didn’t know what those meant. He didn’t know what a lifestyle like that entailed, but it had made him blush when he’d met Little and Pure, he’d barely been able to talk when he was introduced to Raul. Livingston had mentioned if he was Raul, Pure would be tied up and punished. He banished the ideas before he started blushing and drew attention to himself. His thoughts about Livingston were already more detailed than they should be and he’d only spent a week with the man.

“Did you want something?”

“What can I have?”

“I think one bag of chips, a pack of cookies, and candy will last you until we come back in a few weeks, do you believe that’s fair?”

“I can have that much?” He hadn’t dared hope for one thing, but he was allowed three different things. He glanced down at the toes of his shoes and tried to hide his excitement.

“I won’t abide you getting sick from too much, so we’ll discuss how much you can have per day.”

“Yes, sir, but could I have two bags of candy instead of the cookies. I never really liked those.”

“You may. I’ll finish shopping for what we need; then I’ll be back.”

“Thank you, sir.”

Livingston’s presence was so overwhelming that he knew the minute the man left the aisle. What was he supposed to get? What if he didn’t choose before Livingston was back and he didn’t let him get anything. He darted his gaze around, twisted his fingers until they hurt.

“Man, you okay? You look like you’re getting ready to have a panic attack.” A feminine voice came from his left, and he spun to see a black woman in coveralls watching him.

“He told me I could have chips and candy and I don’t know what to get. Maybe if I don’t choose he won’t let me have—”

“Who’s he, and why is he telling you what you can and can’t have? That’s bullshit.”

The anger radiating off the woman made him nervous. He didn’t want her to think bad of the big man.

“Livingston doesn’t want me to get sick.”

“Livingston, that explains it. Come on, little man, let’s find you junk food before your Daddy comes back. Uncle Liv can be a bit of an ass, but he’s fair. I’m Juvie.”

“Fielding.”

“Nice to meet you. You’re new in town. Liv works quick if he got you already.”

He remained silent because he didn’t know if it was safe to explain even to someone who was apparently close to Livingston enough to call him Uncle. He was curious about the big man but refrained from asking questions.

“Okay, why would junk food make you sick?”

“I haven’t had it in years.”

“No wonder you’re too skinny. Princess!” The woman’s voice boomed, and a pretty, full-figured girl ran into the aisle.

She wore a flowing hippie style dress that emphasized her curves rather than hid them. She stopped in the aisle, tilted her head to the side, and slammed her hands on her hips.

“You bellowed, Juvie?”

“My new friend Fielding here hasn’t had junk food in years. He needs help.”

“Oh, hi, I’m Princess. So, what’s our budget?”

“Oh, I—I don’t know, Livingston said I could have two bags of candy and one of chips.”

“Uncle Liv is around. Bossy bastard.”

“He’s not, he just—”

“Relax, no need to defend him,” Juvie assured him.

For the next fifteen minutes, Juvie and Princess helped him settle on chips and his candy.

“Shit.” Livingston’s voice made him spin, and Livingston was caught in a two-way hug.

It looked as if Juvie and Princess were squeezing the air out of his lungs. He barely kept from smiling, but then he frowned as Princess jumped up and wrapped her legs around Livingston to press kisses to the scarred side of the big man’s face. An odd sensation bloomed in his stomach, and he didn’t like it.

“Uncle Liv, miss you.”

“Princess, you saw me two weeks ago on our last run.”

Livingston wore a smile, a real smile that crinkled the corners of his eyes. He wanted that smile for him.

“You don’t spend enough time with the Crews.” Princess pouted.

Juvie laughed as she peeled Princess off Livingston and hugged Princess around the waist.

“Hands off, Princess, you’re making his boy jealous.”

“Oh shit, sorry, Fielding. When did this happen?”

“It’s a job, Princess, nothing more.”

“Oh, so, the allowing him things, but discussing portions is just what you do with jobs now?”

“Princess…” Livingston’s tone warned the subject was off-limits.

“Fine, we helped him find things, he thought you wouldn’t let him have anything if he didn’t choose before you got back.”

He felt the weight of Livingston’s stare, and he didn’t like that it caused him to feel guilty for disappointing Livingston.

“Fielding, is this true?”

“Yes, sir.” Juvie and Princess whispered what sounded like Daddy and Livingston swatted at both of them.

“We’ll talk about this when we get home.”

Princess let out a loud sigh and laid her head back on Juvie’s shoulder. “Home, Liv, sounds so...domestic.”

“Quit sounding like Linus.”

“Bring him on a run with us this weekend. You can’t keep him cooped up in that off-grid cabin of yours.”

“I’ll think about it, but his safety is my main concern, Princess.”

“As it should be, but come on, have you seen our Crews? He’ll have a helmet on, and no one will know, they’ll just wonder about your boy wrapped around you.” Juvie’s smirk made him nervous, all this made him anxious, and he just wanted to go back to the cabin.

“Can we go home, please?”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, sir.”

Juvie and Princess said their goodbyes and made a run for it in the opposite direction. Princess was grabbing a bag of something from the bottom shelf. He followed behind Livingston as the big man turned and pushed an almost overflowing cart. He tightly hugged the bags to his chest as they approached one of the checkout lanes. His gaze followed the flex and play of muscles under the black cotton of Livingston’s t-shirt as the man loaded everything onto the belt.

A small giggle drew his attention, and he darted a gaze to the cashier. The man was pretty, his lashes long and sweeping along the man’s high cheekbones. The stranger was watching him with amusement, and he didn’t like it. Was the man going to make fun of him?

“Brody, behave, your daughter is just like you.”

“Princess filled me in on her way out. He’s pretty, Livingston.”

“I hate you all. Fielding, put your stuff up here.”

“I have money.”

“What was that?” The dangerous tone was back in Livingston’s voice.

He felt as if he did something wrong but didn’t know what. “I can pay for it. I have cash.”

“Don’t make me repeat myself, Fielding, you won’t like the consequences.”

Livingston took a step toward him, and he practically threw the bags. It wasn’t fear, okay, some of it was fear, but it was something else. He didn’t want to disappoint Livingston. The disappointment wasn’t the same as what he received from his parents or his agent. This was something else, and he was confused, unsure and yes, a bit scared.

“Liv, you need a lighter—”

“I know what needs done.”

“If you say so.” Brody gave Livingston the total and the big man paid.

Livingston didn’t look at him as he pushed the cart toward the front exit.

“Fielding, here, a present from all of us is in the bag. Good luck.”

He frowned as he took the bag with his stuff, but it seemed heavier than it should. He just said thank you and quickened his steps to catch up with Livingston. One peek into the bag, and he stumbled right into Livingston’s back.

Strong hands wrapped completely around his upper arms and steadied him.

“Are you okay?”

“They’re making fun of me.”

“What?”

He turned his head away as he opened his bag and let Livingston see the condoms and lube inside. Livingston’s cursing made him flinch, and he started to back away.

“Hey, look at me,” Livingston ordered.

No way could he disobey. He raised his gaze to Livingston’s face and focused on the scarred side. He tightened his fingers around the bag to stop himself from stroking the uneven and discolored planes. Since the first night at the cabin, he’d fantasized about learning the textures of Livingston’s scars. He knew he wasn’t allowed to touch, much less think about the action, but it didn’t stop him. He wanted, no, needed to know.

“This is the Crews’ weird sense of humor. The partners are sometimes worse. Just put it out of your head. It seems they put something else in the bag as well.”

“They did?” He lowered his gaze, ignored the offending items and found the bag of suckers he’d thought about getting, but decided on the mini-chocolate bars instead. “I couldn’t get those. You said only two.”

“It’s a welcome to the Crew thing. Now, put your bag in back, and we have to get going, it’s a long drive home.”

“May I ask you something?”

“One question only.”

“Why do you live so far away?”

“It’s safer that way.”

It was all Livingston said as he took the plastic bag from his hands and tossed it in with the others. The big man led him to the passenger side, opened the door, helped him in and even buckled his seatbelt. He wasn’t a child. No, he didn’t have any life experience, but he was a grown man. He wished Livingston would notice, but he feared the man saw him as a child and a nuisance. The man might not even be gay. So, he was probably an idiot for his crush, yet it didn’t stop him from having one. He stayed silent as his mind twisted in chaotic scenarios of what-if and stupid dreams.

Four months from now, he’d be headed back to a life he hated and leaving the one he was coming to love at the cabin with Livingston. He’d do well to remember that his priorities were a script and making sure he didn’t get fat before going back to real life.